(no subject)

[just_cant_lose]

 

The Great Game

Moriarty walks into the bar in jeans and a T-shirt, rubbing a towel over damp hair. The surprise on his face is genuine for half a second (the fake lasts longer), but he smiles anyway and heads to the bar for a coffee. 

He looks more tired than on his first visit - he's not going to miss any of this particular game, which means broken sleep and a lot of time in front of computer screens - but content too. Satisfied, as though some need has been taken care of.


[OOC: Open through the weekend! Bit of slow in a couple of hours, but mostly here all day and evening.]

Comments

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

Bossuet isn't tending bar, but he's nonetheless attending to her. Or rather cleaning up the mess left by a coffee-maker that explosively stopped working while he was trying to fix himself a cup.

He gives the half-naked man a harried nod, then reminds himself that standards are different in the future and that the man probably doesn't think of himself as half-naked at all. "I'm afraid if you're hoping for coffee, you'd better ask Bar..."

[just_cant_lose]

'Yeah, I was going to.'

Jim smiles easily, and drops onto a stool. He orders coffee like an old hand, no hint of awkwardness, and picks it up to sip as he watches the clean-up in progress.

'What happened?'

His accent is English, his demeanour friendly and open. In his mind he recalls the conversation with Lecter, and places a mental tick next to the name Lesgle de Meaux. The lack of hair is telling.

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"I thought I would make Bar's morning--afternoon?--easier by preparing my own breakfast, instead of bothering her, and breakfast--" He waves a hand, indicating the wet bar-towel and the hints of remaining coffee on his coat, on the floor, and on the Bar herself. "Some people like to fix their own coffee. But perhaps coffee does not like to be fixed by some people. Ah--good morning, hello, delighted to meet you. Lègle de Meaux."

[just_cant_lose]

The scene made everything clear enough, but no matter. He offers his hand to shake, with a smile.

'I'm Jim. Good to meet you. I didn't know anyone could help the bar out - I was told it all ran on magic.'

And therefore, presumably, doesn't mind producing coffee on request. If it turns out there's some kind of mind behind it, he'll be very interested indeed.

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"Oh, yes, magic. But she occasionally demands happy-hour service, and--eh, well, as she's stuck with me indefinitely I try to make our acquaintance a friendly one. She's a most gracious Bar, you know, deserving of courtesy in kind. Which I demonstrate by scalding her with coffee..."

Bossuet swabs at the last of the spill and gives up, shamefacedly ordering coffee and eggs. "You don't come here often, then?" (Look at his brilliant deduction!)

[witchfinder_general]

"Good morning!"

This comes from a middle-aged man in black, sitting at a table with tea and some notebooks.

[just_cant_lose]

'Hello.'

Jim smiles, towel left hanging around his neck. Black could mean anything, but the man's air is distinctly familiar in many ways.

'You alright?'

[witchfinder_general]

"Yes, thank you," the man says.

He looks as priestly as anybody can without wearing full clericals.

"Are you? The bar seems to have caught you during your ablutions."

[just_cant_lose]

'Oh, yeah.'

He looks momentarily awkward, and flicks one end of the towel.

'Just out of the shower. Good job I took clothes in there with me, right? Could've been awkward.'

Priests remind him of school. Ugh.

'I wonder if I'd have got in trouble for breaking the rules. If it wasn't my fault, y'know?'

[igetthatalot]

"You know, I've heard people order that stuff several times around here, but I still have no idea what it actually is," observes the fellow in what probably looks like high-quality Renaissance Faire garb. "Where's this 'coffee' from, anyway?"

[just_cant_lose]

It's not often Jim's surprised, but it never occurred to him that anyone wouldn't have heard of coffee. His mind's been on other things, OK?

'Lots of places.'

This guy gets a friendly, if slightly unsure, once-over. As a result, he goes with, 'Earth'. Well, that and the fact that he hasn't heard of coffee.

[igetthatalot]

"One of those things, then," says Varric. "Like that 'coke' stuff the boy ordered the other day, when I was doing a shift at the Bar. Looks about the same color, anyway, even if it's not bubbly. Is it good?"

People who have a fondness for particular drinks, he's found, find that question irritating enough to start slinging information around like a Chantry sister preaching to Rivaini heathens. Usually it's the wine fanciers who get like that, but there's Anderfels liquors that provoke the same kind of loyalty and response. As for people who don't have that fondness, well, they usually seem to give a blank look and start edging away. It happens.

[just_cant_lose]

Jim opts for neither of these choices, and simply looks at the mug that's appeared.

'Yeah, it's good.'

He's not a fanatic about it - though he won't drink trash, and anyone who tries to serve it to him will regret it really quickly - but he's not about to edge away from...well, anyone.

He pushes the untouched cup a little down the bar.

'Want to try?'

[buh_bye]

Death noticed the man aproaching the bar. This was interesting, there seemed no end to the interesting people.

"Hello James," he said before taking a drink on his tea.

[just_cant_lose]

Jim's hand stalls in the process of rubbing the towel on his hair. Though nothing about his face or demeanour changes, his mind kicks into overdrive.

Yes, he's been here before. No, he did not introduce himself to anyone as 'James'. And even if he had, he'd be asking himself why that name would have been passed on, because he must have blundered badly to be remembered so.

'Hi,' he says, with only a slight hint of caution, and a touch more irritation.

'Have we met?'

[buh_bye]

"Oh come now, you know we haven't, " said Death replacing his cup on the saucer.

[just_cant_lose]

His eyes narrow. Just a tiny bit.

OK, this is weird already. And so is this guy who, incidentally, really needs to eat something.

'If you're trying to make me ask, I'm not that predictable.'

[hadyougoing]

Due to the marvels of millitime, Ava teleports from her vengeance internship into the bathroom, and emerges. This means that when she approaches the Bar for painkillers, she has on a silvery headband and smells faintly (but distinctly) of sulfur.

"Hey, Bar," she says hopefully, "do you have anything stronger than Advil? But, uh, not dangerous."

(Casual glances go left, right, up, over the bar to see if anything reflective will give her a glimpse of what's behind her. The looks are hard to catch unless you happen to be very observant.)

When she spots Jim, she gives a quick, in-case-we-make-eye-contact smile.

[just_cant_lose]

Well now. That's a distinctive smell. And a distinctive set of surreptitious glances, if you're the type who notices such things.

He says 'hi,' as soon as she smiles, so she doesn't have the chance to look away and pretend they didn't make eye contact.

She might not be interesting, but the potential's there with more than most people he sees on a daily basis. His smile is wide, kind of vacant, and there's nothing sharp or overly smart about his gaze.

'Headache?'

[hadyougoing]

At this point, Ava's got so many dangerous men (or manlike figures) on her dance card that vacant is sort of a relief.

She's a little too paranoid to fully trust the quickness of the hello, so her own expression isn't sharp either-- just rueful and pained.

"Yeah," she sighs. She holds up a pill provided by Bar, of a chartreuse hue. "You've never seen anything like this for headaches, have you?"

[just_cant_lose]

'No, sorry.'

And if he had, he might not say. Who can tell?

'What is it, migraine? I had an aunt who got them. They seem pretty rough.'

[the_cupbearer]

"Pity the door didn't catch you twenty minutes ago," says Ganymede, with a little smile as he looks up from writing in an an accounting book. (Balancing one's finances is still mandatory, even for immortals. Especially those who've accumulated an awful lot of money.)

[just_cant_lose]

He looks over with a confused little smile, then seems to get it and tilts his head ruefully.

'I think I'm lucky. I expect most other people are glad too.'

He comes to Ganymede's table, but hesitates awkwardly instead of sitting.

[the_cupbearer]

"Oh, I don't think so. You're not unattractive, Jim."

He smiles gently, and pushes out a chair for him. "You can sit. You don't have to hesitate."

[just_cant_lose]

So he sits, and rubs the towel bashfully over his hair.

'Thanks.'

Someone's not used to compliments.

'What're you doing?'